I’m not delusional. The meds have kept me from reaching that point. But I still feel it almost as though it’s all real. I feel everything watching me, recording me, people somewhere far away watching me on a screen. This paranoia is so bad right now. Every time the house creaks I think they’ve finally come for me. I keep telling myself it’s not real and I’m safe but it’s hard to make myself really believe that. I took 2mg of Xanax and a muscle relaxer to try and calm myself down but it hasn’t helped so far. Definitely abusing the Xanax, though not dangerously. Nothing dangerous about 2mg of Xanax. I feel afraid to breathe, afraid to look around because if I do then there might be someone standing in the hallway, finally come to get me.
No voices today. That’s a good thing. That’s the Invega doing its job. Haven’t seen anything that I think isn’t real today. Just sort of… Just paranoid for no real reason. No real stress going on, it’s just started on its own.
I feel like I’m drowning. I’m terrified just to be in my house, or my own body. Now my delusion starts to poke its head in. I sometimes struggle with the idea that perhaps my body is transforming into a cockroach. I can’t even stand to look at the word much less see one, they terrify me like nothing else. I would do anything to not ever have to see one of those, and I’m so fortunate that they aren’t in my house. But sometimes I have the image in my head of turning into one. I really struggle with that. It’s coming to mind right now, I know obviously it isn’t real but the thought and the vision doesn’t want to go away.
Now I see the faces in the light socket and I’m about to go outside, which I know will be difficult, because I always see faces outside. Faces in trees, in the grass, in the clouds, flowers, anything at all really. Give me some totally random arrangement of anything and I can find a dozen faces glaring back at me, wishing me dead.
This is a normal day for me. The meds make the voices stop at least for most of the time and they keep me from seeing things too much. But the meds don’t stop the paranoia, the overwhelming and dehumanizing fear of everything around me and within me. Some days I’m lucky and this doesn’t happen. It always seems to be worse when I’m not doing something to keep my mind engaged.
I think about what I experience and realize that I only have Schizoaffective disorder. I don’t have Schizophrenia and it makes me feel guilty for feeling bad for myself. How can I feel bad for myself when there are people who deal with much worse than this? I often wish I could meet someone with Schizophrenia and get to know them, maybe even be friends with them.
This is all so lonely.
Going outside now to smoke. Killing me softly with Pall Malls. Lovely.